


Amortentia Baby

by Run_of_the_mill



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Psycho!Tom, Tom Sr. And Merope are alive, Tom is a massive Dick!, he's a little shit, this comes to you all the way from Discord!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 16:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19135804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Run_of_the_mill/pseuds/Run_of_the_mill
Summary: Tom has been caught brewing Amortentia, of all things, by his Mum, Merope Riddle. He thought that all he would get out of this was a massive lecture to rule all lectures.Instead, he finds out he has a Dad who is still alive somewhere out there.Now, Tom really needs to meet his Dad and no one can bloody well stop him, least of all, his incompetent mother.Or: Tom is a murderous bitch. Why do you people even trust this kid?





	Amortentia Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkkBluee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkkBluee/gifts), [Arualiaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arualiaa/gifts), [Anna_Hopkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_Hopkins/gifts), [skittykitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittykitty/gifts).



Tom was hard at work, brewing in the basement. It wouldn't do for mum to catch him in the act. Especially considering the smell of this particular potion. He reached for the moonstone just as the door banged open.

  
"Tom," called his mum. "What are you doing in the basement? The neighbour's boy has been looking for you all weekend." Tom was caught between rolling his eyes (the neighbour boy only looked for him to chase him around) and trying to hide his cauldron with his body.

  
"Are you brewing, dear?" asked Mum. She rounded him and Tom was filled with horror. "What are you- This-" She turned pale and started shaking. Clearly she recognized it and Tom just knew he was in a world of trouble.

  
"Why are you brewing amortentia?" asked Mum.

  
"I'm just trying to get ahead of the schoolwork," said Tom, weakly. She didn't believe him. She had that look in her eyes that said she was preparing to launch into a massive lecture.

  
"Tom, what were you _thinking?"_ she hissed. "This isn't going to make whoever you're brewing for actually _love_  you."

"It's a love potion," protested Tom. "It's supposed to make him love me. It's right there in the name."

  
_"Tom,"_ snapped Mum. "Listen to me, love. He won't love you. The potion will just create a false copy of what you want."

  
"You don't know _what_ I want!" snarled Tom.

  
"Do you _want_ to be abandoned the moment you run out of amortentia?" asked Mum. "Is that what you want?"

  
"That's not going to happen," argued Tom. "I'll just give it to him for a while. I'll- I'll stop, eventually. He'll love me truly by then."

  
"Tom," sighed Mum. _"Trust_ me, honey. It doesn't work that way."

  
"How would _you_ know?" sneered Tom.  
Mum didn't answer immediately. She seemed to be contemplating something. Finally, she settled in a chair Tom had dragged into the basement ages ago. She sighed and rubbed her face in her hands.

  
"Sit down, Tom," said Mum, gesturing to Tom's spare desk in the corner. Tom sat and crossed his arms.

  
"What's this about?" questionned Tom, frowning at her. This lecture was taking a turn for the long-winded, apparently.

  
"This," said Mum, "is about your dad."

  
"The guy that couldn't even stay alive for me?" said Tom, raising an eyebrow.

  
"Tom," said Mum. "Your father is still very much alive."

  
"Wha-" stuttered Tom. "But- But, you said-"

  
"I know what I said, Tom," said Mum. "I lied."

  
"But, _why?"_ hissed Tom. She'd lied to him. Lied to him. To Tom. The nerve.

  
"Because I was ashamed," confessed Mum. "Because I did something horrible to your father and I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to think less of me for it."

  
Quite frankly, Tom couldn't possibly think any less of Merope Riddle. She was the picture that stood next to the definition of 'bottom of the barrel'. And Tom was smart enough to see where this was going. There were pictures of Dad in the house and there was no way a man like that would go for his arse-ugly mother with all of his mind still functioning. Tom's theory had always been that his father had been blind. But it would seem not.

  
"Did you give him amortentia?" asked Tom, lip quivering appropriately. "And he still left us?"

  
"He didn't love us, Tom," said Mum, miserably. "The potion- It made him nearly subservient to me. I liked it at first. I really did. But-"

  
"But what?"urged Tom.

  
"He didn't _love_ me, Tom," said Mum. "His personality was slowly vanishing. He wasn't _himself_ , anymore. It was so hard to see him like that." _And like the little idiot you are, you stopped giving him the amortentia,_ thought Tom, internally rolling his eyes.

  
"So... It doesn't work," said Tom. He let himself fall against the desk and look as miserable as possible.

  
"You're beautiful, Tom," said Mum. "And smart. And kind. You're perfect. I'm sure you don't need the potion to get that boy to return your feelings." _Damn right, I don't_ , thought Tom. _I'm not pathetic like you_. Tom was so perfect the stupid muggle boy next door wouldn't leave him alone. By the way, that boy needed a good batting. What about 'no' was so hard to understand?

  
"I want to meet him," said Tom. "I want to meet my father."

  
"Tom," whined Mum. Oh, could she get any _more_ pathetic? Whining? Really? But, out loud, he said:

  
"He's my dad! I deserve to know him!"

  
"He doesn't _want_ to know you, Tom," said Mum. "He's scared of us."

  
"He's scared of _you,"_ argued Tom. "He doesn't know me. You don't know how he feels about me. You've never even let us meet!"

  
Mum was shaking her head but Tom knew that he'd struck the right chord. She didn't actually know if Tom's father didn't want to know him. She'd probably never even attempted to introduce them to each other. Tom watched her hesitate and it tasted of triumph. He just had to keep up the desperate little boy act for a bit more and she would give in.

  
"I suppose you might be right," she relented, at last. Sweet victory! "I'll- Alright, I'll take you. But, Tom, don't take it to heart if he doesn't react nicely."

  
"I won't!" promised Tom. "Let's go!"

  
"Right now?" asked Mum, seeming a bit nervous.

  
"Yes, right now," insisted Tom. "I don't want you chickening out of this. We're going, _now."_

  
"Al-Alright," said Mum. She took a deep breath, seemingly to steel herself up. Tom waited impatiently at the bottom of the basement stairs. Once she was up, he positively dragged her out of the house so she could Apparate them. He didn't really trust her with a wand but there was really no choice if Tom wanted to keep attending Hogwarts.

  
_Please, don't let Mum splinch us_ , he prayed to whatever god was listening.

  
They Apparated at the gates of a huge mansion on a hill. Tom immediately made a beeline for a bush to empty his stomach. Gods, Mum was awful at Apparating. It didn't feel that way when Tom tried. But then again, Mum was rubbish at magic, in general. So, really, Tom shouldn't have been surprised.

  
"He's in there," said Mum, pointing to the mansion. A flipping mansion! Tom's father was _rich_ and Mum had been keeping them in that run-down hovel of a house she dared called home. Tom had always known he was meant for better. _This_ was just insulting. What a lousy witch, Mum was, to let a man like Tom's father just up and leave them.

  
"Give me your wand," said Tom.

  
"What for?" asked Mum, confused.

  
"I'll need it," said Tom, "if he really hates me, like you insist he does. I read that muggles burn witches." Mum went pale at the idea and immediately handed her wand to Tom. It was as pathetic as its owner, bending to Tom's will with little persuasion. Tom took a deep breath and walked up the little path leading to the mansion.

  
Tom stood at the door, pulling his shoulders back and standing as tall and straight as he possibly could. He grabbed the brass doorknocker and knocked. As he waited, his stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies. He was nervous, wondering what their reactions would be.

  
A woman in a maid's outfit opened the door. She stared at him, wide-eyed, looking back into the mansion, several times in confusion. Well. Tom _did,_ fortunately, look exactly like his father.

  
"I'm here to see Mr. Riddle?" said Tom, phrasing it as a question so he seemed like he was extremely nervous and unsure of what he was doing.

  
"Uh, just a moment," said the maid. She quickly ran back into the mansion. Tom waited patiently for her return.

  
He was examining the roses on the side of the threshold when there was a loud crash and the sound of running footsteps. A surprisingly vigorous old man came, rushing at him. For a moment, Tom thought he was about to be attacked but the old man only grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into the house, shoving the door shut with a great bang. He pushed Tom along a corridor till he was in a sitting room where a man, who was obviously Tom's father, was slowly, dazedly picking up pieces of china that probably used to be a teacup. It _was_ tea time.

  
"Hello," said Tom in a high-pitched tone. He sounded just the right amount of nervous.

  
"Hi," choked Tom's father. He was still picking up his teacup pieces. "Hi. Hello. Good afternoon. Cup of tea?" He kept his eyes on the bloody teacup, which was, it seemed, more interesting than his sudden son that came out of nowhere.

  
"Um, yes, thank you," said Tom, affecting polite confusion. An old lady, presumably Tom's Nan, poured some tea in a pretty little teacup and stiffly came to hand it over to Tom. He took it and looked around the sitting room, wondering if he was to just keep standing there. Noticing his "confusion", the old man who was probably Tom's Granddad, shoved him towards a soft-looking armchair. That irritated Tom. Could this man stop shoving him around. Tom wasn't a bloody cart!

  
When Tom's father still didn't look up after a good ten minutes, Tom cleared his throat.

  
"Is a broken teacup really that fascinating?" asked Tom.

  
"Yes," said Tom's father, firmly. He did not elaborate. Tom nodded slowly, took a sip of tea, stared into his cup.

  
"I see," said Tom. "Please put the teacup down, father."

  
"Father!" trilled Dad. The pieces of teacup fell back to the floor as Tom's father shot up, shock pasted on his face. "The witch had a child. The witch had a _child!"_ He dashed to the fainting couch and faceplanted into it. Tom watched in amazement as he screamed into a plush pillow.

  
"Forgive him," said Granddad, gruffly. "He's been learning to control his destructive impulses. It- It is a process."

  
"The witch had a child!" wailed Dad.

  
"Well, yes," said Nan. "What did you expect happens when a woman is pregnant?"

  
"I was hoping it was an illusion," whimpered Dad into his pillow. "Like that magic she put on me to make me run off with her, the ugly bint!"

  
"It was a potion," corrected Tom.

  
"Oh, wow," sneered Dad. "No, that changes _everything."_ Tom rolled his eyes and snorted a small laugh. He rather liked Dad. He seemed like a kindred spirit.

  
"Tom," admonished Nan.

  
"What?" said Dad at the same time that Tom said "Yes?" Dad turned around in utter horror.

  
"You're named for me?!" shrieked Dad. Well, this was news for Tom too. He'd thought that his name was just a testament to Mum's creativity. Oh, Mum. What to do with you?

  
"Your name is Tom?" asked Nan.

  
"Tom Marvolo Riddle," confirmed Tom.

  
"What kind of name is Marvolo?" questioned Dad.

  
"A wizard's name," said Tom.

  
"You're a witch, too?!" exclaimed Dad. "What am I saying? Of course you are. You've been staying with the witch, all this time!"

  
"I'm clearly male," objected Tom. Dad simply looked at him as if he was speaking pig Latin. "Males are _wizards."_

  
"They have gender labels, too," said Dad. "They have fuggin gender labels." He turned back into his pillow and screamed some more.

  
"At least," said Granddad by way of apology, "he's not breaking crystal vases anymore."

  
"Why are you here, kid?" Dad sat up and, for the first time that day, actually looked at Tom. "After all these years. Why did you come now?"

  
"I didn't know you existed till this morning," said Tom. "I mean, I knew I came from somewhere. But I thought you were dead. Mum told me so."

  
"She told you I was dead," repeated Dad, incredulously. "And then, she raised you to be a witch, too."

  
"You don't become a witch," explained Tom. "You're either born that way or you're not."

  
"That doesn't make it better," said Dad. He put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. From behind his hands, he moaned: "What am I going to do?"

  
"I- I thought-" stammered Tom. "I thought we could, um, get to know each- each other." Hmm. Was Tom overdoing the nervous boy act? Nan's sympathetic look said otherwise. But, just in case, maybe Tom should dial it back, a little.

  
"I don't _want_ to know you," said Dad. That- that was to be expected. Mum did say that Dad didn't love them. "Why did your mother even tell you I was alive?"

  
Oh. Fuck.

  
Tom hadn't expected Dad to be curious about that. He hadn't prepared for that question and Tom was somewhat shit at answering things he wasn't prepared for.

  
"I was brewing a potion," said Tom, blushing as it became obvious that Dad was good at connecting dots. Obviously, Tom's brain didn't come from Mum's side of the family.

  
"You really _are_ her son," said Dad, chuckling lowly. "For a moment there, you nearly had me fooled. I thought you might be a good kid. That there might be some hope for you." That stung. Tom bit his lip, wondering how he was going to save this sinking ship. Immediately, a course of action occurred to him. He just had to stay on course, continue his pitiful act.

  
"You don't understand," whispered Tom. His eyes filled with tears, the way he had practiced. "You don't know what it's like. I-i _love_ him. But he doesn't even- doesn't even _look_ my way. I don't know - I tried _everything._ I'm at my wits' end. I don't know what to do, anymore."

  
"Rape isn't the answer!" screamed Dad, red as a tomato.

  
"Rape..." repeated Tom, wide-eyed.

  
"Yes, rape," said Dad. "What else did you think sex with him under a spell would be? Lovemaking?"

  
"I just-" stuttered Tom. "I wasn't going to give it to him, forever. Just until he loved me for real." It'd worked with Mum. And you know the saying: If it isn't broken...

  
"Jesus help me," said Dad. "Look at me, kid. Do I look like I love your mother?"

  
"No," answered Tom, quietly. He turned his head down, going for a look of contrition. "I won't use it, I promise. Just, please don't send me away."

  
"Right," said Dad. "Right. That's... That's good."

  
"Does that mean you want me?" asked Tom. He didn't think it would be that easy and Dad didn't disappoint.

  
"I'm sorry," said Dad, a haunted look on his face. "I don't. I _can't._ You just- You're that witch's son and I can't forgive. I _won't."_

  
"But I didn't do anything," whimpered Tom. "I was just born. It's not my fault. Please."

  
"I'm sorry," repeated Dad. "I'm truly sorry." He turned away from Tom. As a last ditch effort, Tom turned his tears to his grandparents. Nan shook her head in desolation and Granddad only stared blankly. This was not going according to plan.

  
Well, that's what plan B was for.

  
Tom liked plan B better, anyways.

  
"Well, I tried," said Tom, blandly as he dried his fake tears. Dad tensed up at the change in Tom's tone. "Just know that this could've been avoided if you hadn't been so stubborn."  
He walked up to where Dad was sitting and plopped down next to him. Pulling out Mum's wand, he wound his free hand round Dad's shoulder. The older man attempted to free himself, but Tom tapped his shoulder with Mum's wand and Dad went still. On the other side of the sitting room, Nan and Granddad had stiffened.

  
"Really sorry for this, Nan," said Tom. "I do like you. Old man, i'm not sorry for you. I didn't appreciate all the shoving." That was all the warning they had before Tom slashed Mum's wand through the air and cut both their throats. Dad seized up in horror.

  
"Now, then," said Tom, squeezing Dad's shoulder. "Why don't we call Mum in?"

  
"Ah, before we do," said Tom glancing at his grandparents bleeding bodies. They were ruining the carpet. "How did your parents die, daddy?"

  
"You- you just _killed_ them," hissed Dad. Tom clicked his tongue in annoyance.

  
"Try again, daddy," said Tom, tapping Mum's wand against his thigh, impatiently. Dad stared at the stick, pale-faced and shivering. "How. Did. Your parents. Die?"

  
"Your- your mother," said Dad. "Came in like a madwoman. Waved her stick. Killed them."

  
"We'll work on the details when Mum gets here," promised Tom, satisfied with Dad's answers. Dad swallowed and nodded. Tom went to the window facing the front yard and opened it.

  
"MUM!" he screamed, doing his best to sound scared shitless. "MUM! HELP! HELP! THEY'LL KILL ME! HELP!"

  
He was gratified when, a few minutes later, there was a commotion at the front door and Mum ran into the sitting room. Of course, she was terribly confused when she was faced with the Riddles' bleeding bodies.

  
"What's wrong with you?" cried Tom as he placed the wand in Mum's hand. He closed her fingers around it, then wrestled it from her again. "Why would you do something like this?" He slowly retreated back to where Dad was sitting and pointed the wand at Mum.

  
"I don't understand," said Mum.

  
"You killed them," whispered Dad. "Why?" Tom chuckled and kissed Dad's hair.

  
"Very good, daddy," praised Tom. Dad shivered, squirmed in Tom's grasp.

  
"I don't understand," repeated Mum.

  
"You're a murderer, mummy," said Tom. "You killed daddy's parents! You're horrible!" He pulled out his own bone-white, yew wand from his sleeve and cast a binding spell towards Mum and a shield charm over himself and Dad.

  
Straight away, there was a crack of apparation. A ministry officer walked in, likely expecting to reprimand some underage wizard for use of magic outside of school, only to scream at the nightmarish scene playing out in the living room.Tom tried to imagine it from the officer's point of view. 

 

The Riddles had bled to death in a corner. Mum was tied up on the floor and Tom was crying big fat tears while holding his shell-shocked father and casting a shield charm.

  
"Help me," begged Tom, crying even harder.

  
Things moved quickly from there. Aurors were called in and Mum was arrested and taken to the Ministry for a trial. She kept her mouth shut, confessing to the murders without prompting. Tom and Dad both went to the trial and Tom acted devastated for the duration of the whole affair. Dad held his hand, not without a bit of convincing, and pretended to comfort him. When they began to lead Mum away to spend life in Azkaban, Tom ran down to the court's pit, crying bitterly.

  
"What am I gonna do, now?" wept Tom, holding onto Mum's shackled hands. She said nothing, watching him as if she'd never seen him before. And perhaps she never truly had. Tom wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her for the first time in his entire life.

  
"Thank you," he whispered in her ear. The Aurors pried him off of her and Tom cried even harder.

  
"You'll be alright, son," said one of the Aurors. He handed Tom over to his Dad and joined his colleagues in leading Mum away.

  
"I'll certainly be alright," said Tom, blithely, when he and Dad were alone. "Right, daddy?"

  
"Right," mumbled Dad.

  
The whole debacle with Mum had happened in June. Now, in August, Tom was settled into Riddle Manor as if he'd been born and raised there.

  
"I'm receiving someone, today," said Tom, at breakfast.

  
"Anyone I know?" asked Dad, as he perused his morning paper. Over the past month and a half, Dad had gotten somewhat used to Tom and a tentative peace had settled over them.

  
"I doubt it," said Tom. "He's from my school."

  
"A schoolfriend?"

  
"Of sorts," said Tom.

  
"Alright," said Dad. "Do bring him to my office. I'd like to meet anyone who can manage to be friendly with you."

  
"Daddy," warned Tom. Dad inclined his head in apology. Not that he was very sorry. But Tom had made it abundantly clear that he didn't need his wand to do magic. _And_ that he didn't need magic to hurt Dad.

  
Later that day, one of the maids came to find Tom to let him know that his guest was here. Tom ran down the stairs and threw himself into the other boy's arms.

  
"Someone missed me," said Harry Potter, chuckling as he spun Tom around. Tom didn't bother answering. He smashed their lips together, moaning when Harry kissed back eagerly. "I should go away on curse-breaking trips with my Mum more often."

  
"Shut up," said Tom. "I dare you to leave me again."

  
Harry chuckled and hugged Tom tighter.

  
"I heard about your Mum," said Harry. "I'm really sorry." Tom made sure he looked appropriately sad.

  
"I still don't understand it," said Tom, as if he was admitting something he had told no one else yet. Technically, it was true. Not that he didn't understand. Just that he hadn't sprouted that brand of nonsense to anyone else. But Tom had to do what he had to do to keep his man.

  
"Forget that," said Tom, taking Harry's hands and leading him deeper into the mansion. "My Dad wants to meet you."

  
"Do I look presentable?" asked Harry, flatenning his hair. Or, at least, attempting to. He failed but Tom loved it just the way it was. Harry was also wearing a pressed white shirt and black slacks. Very formal for Harry. Clearly, he'd expected that he would be meeting Dad, today. Tom's darling was so smart.

  
"You look very dashing," said Tom. "10/10. Would introduce to Dad again." Harry grinned at Tom's cheek, pulled him in for another bout of short kisses.

  
"Alright," said Harry. "I'm ready. Take me to meet your old man."

  
Tom knocked on Dad's office door and waited till they were called in. Dad was busy, flipping through a bunch of papers and tapping away at his PC. He glanced up when Tom and Harry came into the office.

  
"Come, come," said Dad. "Take a seat and give me a moment to finish this." Tom went to lounge on the couch but Harry went to sit ramrod straight in one of the chairs across from Dad. Harry was so cute, sometimes. Eventually, Dad put his work away and turned to Harry.

  
"Tom Riddle Snr.," said Dad, holding out a hand for Harry to shake. Harry took it, firmly, and shook.

  
"Harry James Potter," said Harry. "Tom's boyfriend."

  
"Boyfriend," repeated Dad, incredulously. From behind Harry, Tom smiled widely at his father.

  
"Yeah," said Harry, faltering. "Did-did Tom not tell you?"

  
"Must've slipped my mind," said Tom, acting embarassed. "I was convinced I'd told him, though."

  
"Maybe I wasn't listening," said Dad. "How long have you two been dating, Harry?"

  
"Since last summer, actually," said Harry. "I was supposed to spend this summer with my Mum in Egypt. But I came back early 'cause of Tom's and my anniversary. I wanted to do something special, since it's our first. _With_ your permission, of course." Tom watched with growing amusement as Dad began to connect various dots that had remained, heretofore, unseen. They'd probably have a talk after Harry left.

  
"You utter _cunt,"_ hissed Dad, when Harry had left with the promise of coming back later that week. "You never needed the amortentia!"

  
"Nope," said Tom, popping the 'p' with particular relish.

  
"Then, why?!" demanded Dad. "Why did all of this happen."

  
"Did you actually believe that crap," asked Tom, "about how I found out about you from Mum? That's just funny."

  
"How long have you known about me?" asked Dad, face draining of all its colour.

  
"Since I was eleven," confessed Tom with a wicked grin. "I couldn't find any Riddles in the wizarding world, so I looked in the muggle world. Imagine my surprise when I found out how much you were worth."

  
"So," said Dad, "All of this is because of money."

  
"Mum was _trash_ poor," said Tom. "Could barely afford my school stuff. Always wearing second-hand robes, using second-hand books, quills and whatnot. I was tired of the hand-me-downs."

  
"So, you killed my parents," said Dad, "for money."

  
"Aren't you a smart one," drawled Tom.

  
"God in heaven," breathed Dad. "You're a monster." Tom laughed at that. Hard and long.

  
"Oh, Daddy," said Tom, patting Dad's arm when he finally calmed down. "I never pretended otherwise."

**Author's Note:**

> Questions? Comments? Insults? 👀


End file.
